


Brooke Stole My Sweater

by ScripStrel



Series: Puppy Love [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fall Fair, Ferris Wheels, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, I Love You, Kissing, Love Confessions, Post-Canon, Post-Squip, Sharing Clothes, Sweaters, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, more like stealing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScripStrel/pseuds/ScripStrel
Summary: Combine a Ferris wheel, a patch of pumpkins, and a bushel of fluff, and you've got a basic idea of how Jeremy and Brooke's eighth date went.





	Brooke Stole My Sweater

He hadn’t realized that he’d never seen her without a sweater until he saw her without a sweater. Fucking  _ duh, _ right? She would probably react the same way if he stopped wearing his (not that he ever would). Still, Jeremy was like, really surprised. Brooke’s skin was so soft and he knew that already, obviously, but he hadn’t realized that apparently some people use lotion on more than their hands. Or, um… their… well… Let’s just say that he would rather waste lotion than explain to his dad why he was buying lube. 

But back to Brooke, because he didn’t need to be thinking about his habits when he was around the most gorgeous girl he knew, even if they were dating. That could end badly. By badly, he meant that she might realize that he thought with his dick sometimes, which he didn’t want her to think because he did use his actual brain  _ most  _ of the time and he really did appreciate her for who she was. She was smart and nice and had somehow bothered to take him back after everything he’d done to her. And sure, he knew lots of pretty girls, but none of them had the same kind of grace that she did. Christine was great too, but he hadn’t been able to date her for more than a month before he realized that she was always turned up to eleven and he was not in the right headspace to always be feeding her energy. She was a great friend, but he couldn’t handle the whole “supporting your partner” thing about dating when she always wanted to talk and always wanted to know what he thought about everything. Sometimes he needed to just have a weekend to get stoned in Michael’s basement and not have to think about a relationship. 

Somehow, Brooke got that. She wasn’t electric like Christine was, but she carried a warm breeze with her. She was there when he needed her, and always a welcome presence to calm him down or cheer him up or whatever, but she was also grounded. He didn’t have to rely on her, and it didn’t feel like she was relying on him. 

And she was standing next to him in the line for the ferris wheel and he couldn’t believe he’d never seen her like this. Her ponytail was billowing down her back like a river of glistening gold. The shitty carnival lights reflected cascades of jewels in her eyes. She was here, with  _ him. _ The resident weird geek kid who drugged the drama department. She was with him in  _ public,  _ where anyone could see them and anyone could judge them and she didn’t deserve his slight on her image, but she was with him anyway, and her fingers were warm and soft where they linked with his. 

Her bare arm was brushing against him, and even though he wasn’t wearing a halter top (he couldn’t have been, anyway. It’s not like he even owned one), even though his arms were covered, the contact sent sparks through his skin. 

“Brooke?” They were still holding hands in the ferris wheel seat. His arm still felt like it was melting where she leaned into it. She hummed and looked up at him. “What—what are we?”

She smiled. “Last I checked, this is our eighth date.”

“Right, but. Like.” Whatever it was that was gnawing at Jeremy’s stomach, he couldn’t just  _ say  _ it. He didn’t even really know what it was. “I don’t know. Nevermind.”

“Jeremy,” she said, sitting up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!” His heart was in his throat. “I just—I don’t know. I—yeah. Nevermind. Forget it. We can let it go.”

She giggled despite the concern in her eyes and hummed out a few notes. 

“No! No, not like that! Frozen is  _ so  _ dead.”

She laughed again, and it was like when Jeremy had won the apple bob against all odds and given her the mini scarecrow prize and the victory cowbell was going off in the makeshift game booth and in his heart. Yeah, yeah. Fall fairs were a bunch of country bumpkin crap, but it managed to be fun with her. “Hey, I like the Broadway version, okay? And just because it’s overplayed doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Brooke paused and bit her lip, completely ignoring the fiery red lipstick. “Seriously. Do you need anything?”

Jeremy sighed and let himself lean against her. “You’re really great. Have I told you that?”

“Oh, probably once or twice.” He had told her at least a hundred times. 

“You’re so pretty and smart and nice and you’re just perfect. I really, really don’t deserve you. There’s nothing I could ever do to deserve you.” It didn’t matter that she already knew. Jeremy had to say it, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. 

Brooke rested her head on his shoulder. He laid his on top of hers. “At this point, I’d think you’d know how I react when you start self-deprecating.”

“I’m not self-deprecating. I’m showering you in compliments.” Something was still clawing around in Jeremy’s gut, but he felt lighter. Brooke was warm against him. The evening breeze was cutting crisp and dark. He could pick out the path through the corn maze from here. Heck, he could see the early Halloween decorations blaring blacklight strobes around the rich people’s houses. “You deserve so much better than me, so I have to go and remind you that you’re an angel, Brooke. You’re a goddess and it’s my job as your boyfriend to make sure you know it.”

Brooke sat up and stared at him, her eyes wide. “Gosh, I love you.”

Jeremy’s face was on fire. It’s not that he’d been avoiding the “L word,” but he hadn’t thought—

Brooke kissed him. On the lips. And Jeremy’s chest exploded. They’d kissed before, obviously, but this. This time, her arms had looped around his shoulders and she had shifted almost into his lap. This time, he could almost taste her pumpkin spice perfume and he  _ could  _ taste the lingering stick of the candy apples they’d had for dinner. This time, she was pressing into him, weighing down on him, melting into him, licking into his mouth and kindling sparks in his chest and along his skin. This time, he was absolutely  _ dissolving.  _

And all too soon, she was pulling away, dragging his lips and his brain with her. 

“What was that for?” Jeremy gasped out, suddenly dizzy. Suddenly wishing they weren’t a hundred feet above the ground. Suddenly feeling like he was about to drift into space. 

“Oh, you know,” Brooke said, leaning back against his chest, “I’ve had a long list of dream dates since like sixth grade, and going to a fair and kissing on top of the ferris wheel was always one of my favorites. I’ve been debating between this and making out with you in the hay ride all weekend.”

“I—uh… I’d still, um.” Jeremy swallowed.  “You—you can still totally do that second one,  t-too. You know, uh, only if you want.”

She grinned and pressed her lips to his cheek. He could feel the tacky, bright red mark she left, even redder than his blush. “Well, since you  _ offered." _

Before he could respond, Brooke had clambered over him and out of the now-stopped ferris wheel. Jeremy snapped himself out of his daze and, ignoring the stiffness in his jeans that was sort of getting in the way of him walking right, chased after her. If only she were wearing her sweater. He was so used to spotting her in the hallway by the yellow knit, the same way he could always find Michael by his hoodie. But  _ no, _ she just had to be playing games with him. Teasing and ditching and deciding to play hide and seek when he couldn’t just look for her swathed in canary yellow. What sort of girlfriend—?

“Boo!” 

Jeremy would deny shrieking like a little girl when Brooke leapt out from behind a ginormous pumpkin. Unfortunately for him, she had her phone trained on him, and Instagram would call his bluff soon enough. Her laughter was enough to compensate for the dent to his (already nonexistent) reputation, though. She was doubled over onto the pumpkin, gasping and giggling and, fuck, was she  _ crying? _ It wasn’t  _ that _ funny, right? Was she okay?

“You, you should’ve seen the  _ look _ on your face!” She wheezed, reaching over and attempting to pull him down into another kiss, which was more than a little sloppy, on account of her still giggling like mad. Yeah, she was fine. 

“Are you drunk or something?” Jeremy laughed with her. His face was starting to hurt with how much he was smiling. 

“Drunk in love, baby,” she snickered, absolutely clinging to him. 

“Okay, I love you too, but are you sure you’re okay?” Wow. Jeremy had been hesitant to say “love” before, but it just felt so  _ right. _ He twirled a finger in Brooke’s ponytail as she burrowed herself into his embrace and took a deep breath, which he  _ really  _ hoped wouldn’t lead to her deciding he smelled gross and sweaty or anything, because, honestly, anyone would smell like ass compared to her constantly perfumed, shampooed, cloud of florals and soaps,  _ especially _ Jeremy. 

“Yeah, I’m great,” she said, looking up into his eyes, and damn, did she look smitten. Like, there were hearts in her eyes. Jeremy felt like he was watching a rom com or something. Way to add to him feeling super self conscious. There was no way she was actually looking at him like that. Maybe he was just stoned of his ass in Michael’s basement. Maybe he was having a weed dream. Was that a thing? He probably should’ve known if that was a thing. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.”

Jeremy sat them down on a pumpkin, rubbing at her bare arms. The twilight was darkening to like, actual night. He was half-certain he heard an owl, though whether it was real or just coming from some seasonal atmosphere-setting pre-recorded shit, he had no idea. “Me too. Maybe we should skip out on the hay ride, though? As much as I liked that idea, it’s kinda getting late, and I’m pretty sure you said you had to study for your Spanish test.”

“I’d much rather make out with you than memorize vocab for AP fucking Spanish. Tell me why I thought that was a good idea, again?”

“Because you’re a literal genius?”

“Ugh, I guess.” Brooke was fingering Jeremy’s shirt collar, and he had to force himself not to shudder at the contact. Calm down, sex drive. You agreed that when you were gonna try this again, you were gonna go slow. She  _ just _ said she loved you. Even if you were to get action tonight, it wouldn’t be in the fucking pumpkin patch. 

Another breeze wafted by and Brooke shivered. He could feel the goosebumps along her skin under his hands. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said through chattering teeth. “I didn’t realize how cold it was getting.”

“It’s October, and you have like no sleeves.” Jeremy chuckled. “What happened to your sweater anyway?”

“I left it in Chloe’s car last week, and she won’t give it back. She says I need to expand my wardrobe. I think I might just go get another of the same sweater to spite her.”

“Do it. Chloe’s a bitch, anyway.” He didn’t mean it. Not really. They’d both forgiven Chloe months ago. It was just banter. “The yellow sweater is like, my favorite thing that you wear.”

Brooke smiled up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s soft and bright and stuff. It’s like you in sweater form.” Brooke giggled, and Jeremy realized just how stupid that sentence was. “No! Like, in a good way. It just suits you. I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry, Jerry. I get it. Your blue sweater suits you, too,” Brooke said, fumbling with a button on it. Her teeth were chattering. 

“Oh! Hey, wait.” Jeremy was such an idiot sometimes. He could half-sense a robotic voice in his head telling him he deserved to be smacked upside the head for being so dense. He ignored it. Still, how had he not thought of it earlier? “You can just borrow mine!”

“Your..?”

“My sweater. You know, until Chloe gives you yours back.”

Brooke smirked at him, still shaking. “You mean we can’t just share body heat and cuddle on this pumpkin forever?”

“Nope! You’re cold, and I’m trying to be a good boyfriend.” Jeremy was probably needlessly excited, but hey, he did have other jackets and stuff. And he’d never actually had a girlfriend for long enough for her to steal his clothes before. It was exciting. It was a milestone, somehow almost as much as the “L word.” What a night for milestones. 

Brooke accepted the cardigan, biting back laughter. Jeremy hadn’t actually realized just how cold it was, but now that he was in just his t-shirt, he felt so much worse about not noticing Brooke’s plight earlier. 

“Okay,” he said, trying not to sound like he was shivering, trying not to make Brooke think he was at all regretting his decision, because he  _ wasn’t, _ no matter how much he wished he wasn’t cold. “Now, studying for Spanish.”

“Since when are you the responsible one?”

“Believe me, I’m probably gonna be on YouTube until two am.” Or— _ ahem _ —a more adult variant of YouTube. He’d decide later. “But I can’t let my horrible life decisions taint your spotless record.”

“You’re too good to me,” Brooke said. She wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug, and left a final lingering peck on his lips. “I love you.”

* * *

“Dude, new jacket?” Jeremy was greeted by a clap on the back from his best friend at lunch. 

“Uh, not really.” Jeremy glanced down at his gray sweatshirt. “It, um… The Squip said the sweater made me look like an old lady, so it made me get this instead.”

Michael’s jaw clenched around his slushie straw. “Do I need to rip your skull open and punch it for you?”

“No! No, fuck no. It’s not  _ back _ or anything. Dude, I swear I would tell you if it was. I got this sweatshirt like a year ago.” Ironically enough, a current seemed to run itself under Jeremy’s skin. Still. No Matrix breath mints in sight. Or sound. Or, like, around at all. He wasn’t actually being electrocuted.

“So are you just trying to revamp your style yourself, or?” Michael had relaxed considerably, and looked over his glasses at Jeremy.

“Brooke stole my sweater.” Michael snorted. 

“Excuse you, Buster, but I didn’t steal anything.” Brooke perched herself next to him. “You practically insisted I take it.”

“You’re the one who was gonna get hypothermia at the fair!” Jeremy kicked Michael under the table in a vain attempt to get him to stop cackling. Brooke just giggled with him and entwined her fingers with Jeremy’s. 

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it, then,” Michael said, popping his headphones over his ears. Jeremy had never been the type for intense PDA, but he  _ had  _ been promised a makeout session, and he  _ had _ basically just been given permission, and Brooke was  _ really _ rocking his sweater, so he flashed a thumbs up at Michael and glanced at Brooke, who was snuggling into his shoulder, nearly asleep. 

“How was the Spanish test?”

“Piece of cake,” she mumbled, smiling. “I had my good luck charm. My boyfriend gave it to me last night. He’s the best.”

“How late were you studying?” He threaded his fingers through her hair, which was flowing loose around her face. 

“I was watching Buzzfeed videos until two am.”

“Brooke!”

Okay, so maybe the makeout could wait a bit longer. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never personally seen any kind of fall fair with a Ferris wheel, but I don't care. I wanted them to kiss on the Ferris wheel but the sweater stealing wouldn't have made any sense at a summertime carnival thing. So we've got this.  
> I wear sweaters everywhere all the time, and I can apply that to both Brooke and Jeremy in my headcanons, so suffer with me.  
> Michael is a good wingman.  
> If Brooke hadn't shown up when she did, he probably would've assumed that she took it after she and Jeremy had a wild night in, and he totally would've given a super cringeworthy but super sincere congrats. I know I didn't write that part, but I think you need to know that I thought about it.  
> This is a lot of notes, sorry.  
> As always, I love feedback, so please feel free, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
